


Oh Please, Like This Is The Worst I've Done (Fictober Submission)

by PerpetualSpinster



Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: F/M, Soft M'Baku (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-06 19:18:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16838782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PerpetualSpinster/pseuds/PerpetualSpinster
Summary: M'Baku and aftercare.





	Oh Please, Like This Is The Worst I've Done (Fictober Submission)

M’Baku and Bidemi laid in bed, heavily breathing and entangled in each other’s limbs. M’Baku laid prone on top of Bidemi still betwixt her legs as he tried to catch his breath, body completely spent from the session they just clocked in. His face laid comfortably on her bosom as Bidemi stroked his head, twisting his tight curls around her finger. She still felt the after shock from his passion between her logs, throbbing in rhythm with her breath as she stared absently at the ceiling.

“You will be the death of me one day, iyawo.” M’Baku moaned on her chest. His voice was hoarse and deep from their noisy love making.

Bidemi chuckled. “Well it would be a better way to go, wouldn’t it? But don’t talk like that, I couldn’t bear thinking about trying to replicate what you give me.”

M’Baku looks up at her. “You mean, you would look for another after me?”

Bidemi plays with his chin. “You would want me to be a lonely widower for the rest of my life? I thought you would want me to find happiness and love again?”

M’Baku pretends to bite her fingers. “It is not that you shouldn’t be happy. I just wonder…how long would you wait after me?”

Bidemi rolls her eyes. “Are we really talking about this at the very moment? You are ruining my glow.”

M’Baku shrugs. “It is interesting conversation. And I can put that glow back on for you, just tell me when…” M’Baku smiles, kissing the tops of her breasts.

Bidemi pulls his head up. “Uh huh, slow down. There’s no need to get so eager all of a sudden. I’ll answer your question to see what you think. Maybe….three years? To date or get to know someone again.”

M’Baku’s jaw drops. “That is all my time with you is worth? Three years mourning?”

Bidemi slaps his shoulder. “How long would you wait after me, eh? The women of Wakanda would be lined around the mountains outside of your bedroom door to ‘help you through it’.” 

M’Baku rolls off of Bidemi, heading to the master bath. “I don’t know honestly. It can’t imagine a woman equating to you.”

Bidemi scoffs, talking over the running water. “Do you believe in the idea of soulmates? That you only get one and if you never find them, or lose yours, then love is forever lost?”

M’Baku comes back with a towel, plopping on the bed and wiping down Bidemi. “I do and I don’t. I don’t think that is is impossible to love again after losing someone, but it would be incredibly difficult. Especially if that person was so good, so beautiful of a human being to have made a lasting impact on how you live your life, then the comparisons would begin and the pangs of guilt in possibly forgetting your previous habits with your prior relationship-”

Bidemi sits up, pulling the sheets around her body. “Ok, I think I am done talking about it now. It is too sad of a subject.”

M’Baku sits up next her running the back of his hand along the goosebumps on her arm. “I don’t mind talking about it, because is a good critical thinking exercise. And it reminds me how much I value you as my companion for life. No matter how crazy you drive me.”

Bidemi hugs her knees, smiling shyly. “And to the origination of this conversation, sex is better for the heart, not detrimental.” 

M’Baku puffs out his cheeks exhaling. “No training compares, I must say.”

Bidemi gets up to open the curtains of the windows, letting the morning sun paint its rays along the outlines of her body. M’Baku admires the view of his lady from the bed as she stands there staring at the falling snow. 

“You are so beautiful, just as you are now, you know? As Hanuman intended us, in our natural form. It is like art.” M’Baku says adoringly.

Bidemi looks down at herself, before look back at him. “You think so? I’m still trying to see myself the way you do, but I don’t mind a friendly reminder.” Bidemi smiles as she walks over to the dresser to pull out a bottle nail polish.

“That won’t be an issue for me to uphold. If I am truthful about anything, it is subjects pertaining to you, you are perfect.”

Bidemi shakes the bottle, sitting on a chair by her vanity to start painting.

M’Baku holds out his hand, “C’mere, Bimi. Let me help you.”

Bidemi looks at him suspiciously. “What do you mean? What do you know about this?”

M’Baku chides her. “That is neither here nor there. I know it’s a little brush, you run the paint across the nail. It is elementary.”

Bidemi walks cautiously back to the bed. “True, you just haven’t done it since that one time a few months ago. You ruined some furniture with your sloppiness.”

M’Baku chuckles, moving to the end of the bed and placing one of her feet on his knee. “That was then, this is now.”

M’Baku pulls the brush out the bottle. “Dab the excess off the rim, Baku.” Bidemi warns him. 

M’Baku raises an eyebrow. “I know what I am doing here.” He follows her instruction, running the brush along the nail of her big toe, the red paint glosses in the light as it hardens to dry. Bidemi peers at M’Baku’s concentration; eyes squinted, tongue out, and a juicy pinky stuck out to steady his hand that makes the brush look comically small. Finishing one foot, M’Baku holds her foot up inches from his face as he blows the paint dry.

“That tickles, love.” Bidemi says, enjoying the spa treatment all the same.

“Remain still, I am just about finished.” M’Baku commands as his cheeks puff to blow air onto her toes some more, before starting on the other foot.

Once he completed his project M’Baku sits up, twisting the top of the polish bottle closed, grinning with pride. “There! All done, do you see?”

Bidemi leans over, flexing her feet to inspect. “I knew you should’ve let me get my toe separators…” Bidemi critiques, rubbing some paint off of the skin around her nail.

M’Baku kisses his teeth. “Oh please, like this is the worst I have done. I told you to sit still, but it is a respectable attempt on my part. I won’t even charge you this time.”

Bidemi clutches her pearls. “Oh, how generous of you, kind sir! Could you teach me your technique, oh great one?”

M’Baku stroked his chin in thought. “Well I could teach you….but then I would have to charge. I feel like that is a proverb from something. Maybe a Bast thing…”

Bidemi choked back her laughter. “Oh did…heh….did Shuri tell it to you?”

M’Baku snaps his fingers. “That was it! She told it to me in some context. Like a gathering of folk for knowledge of someone’s talents…”

Bidemi snatches the polish out of M’Baku’s hands, getting up to her array of colors. “Well, I have to at least try and get as good as you.” She picks up a bottle of black polish. “But your feet are off limits.”

M’Baku looks hurt. “What? Why don’t you want to paint them?”

Bidemi sits on the bed, looking at M’Baku blankly. “I don’t want to risk cutting my hand, or starting a fire grazing your neglected soles. I told you to use that shea butter I got from the market, we live in the dry air for Hanuman’s sake.”

M’Baku covers his feet subconsciously under the blanket as Bidemi takes his to try the color out on his nails.

M’Baku studies her technique. “Very good, starting from the middle to outward helps.”

Bidemi nods. “Right, that way you are distributing the paint more evenly, lowering the chance for overflow. I’d say this look is very becoming on you. Think your men will enjoy it?”

M’Baku laughs. “I did not think about that. They may have their laugh but I’ll just tell them they truly haven’t satisfied their partner if they walk in with bare nails, how’s that?”

Bidemi blows on his nails, keeping her lips out for a kiss. “That’s right, love. A glow and a pedicure better than any spa can dream to replicate.


End file.
